Where You Belong
by Cyranothe2nd
Summary: When Angel goes to Rome to rekindle his romance with Buffy, he finds that things aren't as simple as he thought they'd be. Set 7 years after BtVS, 6 years after Angel. Show canon only. Spuffy with some Bangel.


A/N: Set 7 years after the end of BtVS and 6 years after Angel. Show canon only. Spuffy with some Bangel.

Disclaimer: I do not own Joss's characters; I just take them out to play with them.

* * *

"This has never happened to me before."

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, sheet tucked around her naked body, twisting the embroidered edge between her fingers.

"It's okay. I mean, it happens to everyone, right?"

"Not to me." Buffy twisted around to look into her partner's face. "I'm sorry."

Angel furrowed his brow. "Is it because you're worried I might lose my soul? Because the Powers That Be assured me when I gave up the Shanshu that..."

Buffy waved away his concern. "It's not that." She stood, the sheet sliding tantalizingly lower, revealing the curve of her golden back as she walked to the wide bank of windows across from the hotel bed. She looked down into the glittering lights of Rome. Angel followed her, his hands gliding up her arms to rest on her shoulders. He thought she might turn into his embrace, maybe laugh it off and try again. Instead she remained stubbornly silent.

After a minute he sighed. "Buffy, come on. Give me something here."

When she spoke her voice sounded small, anguished. "It's not you, really. It's all me. It's just...I thought I could...but you're a vampire and it—"

"Wait a minute," Angel turned the unresisting Slayer around to face him. Her eyes leveled on his bare chest and refused to rise further. "Why is that a problem? You've been with vampires before. The Immortal and me and Spike..." His voice trailed off when she winced. "Oh my god. This is about Spike."

The tears broke free. He could smell them as she pivoted away from him and launched across the room, gathering up the clothes that were scattered across the floor. She dumped the lot on the bed and said again, "I'm sorry," Her breathing hitched and he could tell she was fighting the tears back, forcing them in to the black space where she went when she couldn't handle the pain. It was a place he's never been able to touch, he realized. She'd never let him in that far. The wall came down and Buffy, the self-assured Slayer, was back. As if she hadn't just went completely white when he's said Spike's name. As if her hands weren't trembling even as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"Guess this makes me Tease of the Year, huh?" Buffy gave a bitter little laugh. She turned back to him, still standing at the window and sighed. "I don't mean that I was leading you on. I just," she shook her head, lips pursed. "I thought...well, if anyone could make me forget it would be you. I should have know that it wouldn't work. It never has." The last three words were said under her breath.

Angel took a breath, waiting for his non-functional heart to stop constricting to speak. "Okay," he said finally. "I'm going to need to put on some pants."

Buffy huffed out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh and Angel fished his pants out from under the bed, shoving his legs into them, carefully not looking at the Slayer, who had abandoned the sheet to pull her skirt on. He could hear the rustle of the leather as it slid up her tanned legs. He should have know something was wrong, he realized. She'd been strange all night; too cheerful, too desperate to get up to his room. And her eyes hadn't met his once the entire evening. He'd chalked it up to nerves; he was certainly nervous enough. But when he'd finally gotten what he wanted—a gift from the PTB that involved keeping his vampire senses and strength while retaining his soul without condition—he'd needed to come to her. After seven years he'd figured she'd be done baking, chewy fully-finished cookies, and that maybe there'd be a chance for them.

He should have known that it wouldn't be that easy.

Angel buttoned up his shirt and turned to the fully dressed Buffy. She was looking at him now, he noticed, her green eyes wet and solemn. "I'm sorry," she said again.

"Stop saying that," he snapped and winced when she looked away from him. "Look, I'm just...I'm having a hard time here. When I visited you in Sunnydale you said--"

"That he was in my heart," she finished for him.

"Yeah, but not that you loved him." He softened his voice, trying to ignore his own pain and look to hers.

Buffy sighed and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, her hands raking through her long blonde hair. "I know. I didn't think I did. I didn't realize how much he meant to me until he was gone. And then it was too late." Buffy mouth gave an ironic twist. "Stupid Buffy."

Angel sat down beside her, close enough that their arms brushed when she breathed. "But I thought you had moved on. I mean, you seemed pretty tight with the Immortal when I saw you here last." He'd told her about coming to Rome six years before, omitting any mention of Spike.

"George is not my type. And I'm definitely not his," she said.

"_George_?!" Angel sputtered. "The Immortal's name is George?"

"What, you think yours is better, _Angel_?" She gave his name an ironic twist and raised one delicately shaped eyebrow at him.

"Hey, at least it's not George," he said, still cackling madly. Buffy rolled her eyes at him. She tapped him lightly on the arm and he realized that this is what had been missing the whole evening, this easy sense of camaraderie. The year he's spent in LA at Wolfram and Hart has been hell, not the least because of the tension he could hear in her voice at the rare times he spoke to Buffy. To have her mistrust him had been a nightmare. And he realized he needed that. More than he wanted her to love him, he wanted her to trust him, to tease him and talk to him and be on his side.

Maybe the years had changed more than just her, he thought. Maybe he's been set on Buffy-default for so long that he hadn't really understood that they'd moved past the point where a romance could happen. Maybe he was just chasing the ghost of something that wasn't meant to be.

But that didn't mean she had to.

"So, what now?" Buffy's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"Well, I thought maybe I'd go into the bathroom and stake myself." He grinned at her narrowed eyes. "But maybe I'll take you home first."

"Thanks," she said standing. "I'd hate to get dust on my new outfit."

He laughed outright at that, scooping up his room key and shrugging on his jacket. They stepped into the crisp night together and walked the few blocks to her apartment. The lights were out and Angel extended his senses, assuring himself that there were no demons lurking around. At the front door she paused and turned.

"Angel, are we good?" She asked softly.

"More than good," he assured her. "And I'm sorry. About Spike."

Her eyes took on a faraway look. "So am I," she said. "For a lot of things." The regret threaded through her voice only hinted at the pain underneath but Angel could see it in the tightness of the muscles around her mouth. How could he not have seen it before?

Because you didn't want to, he told himself. "Good night," he said aloud. Buffy looked up at him and then leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Her whispered 'thank you' was almost too soft to here before she opened the door and went inside.

Angel paused on the doorstep for a long minute, listening to Buffy moving around within. He heard the thunk of her purse as she set it down, the flick of the light switch, the creak of a chair as she sat. But it was the muffled sound of her crying that spurred him to action.

It wasn't meant to be between them. He could see that now. But that didn't mean that she didn't deserve to be happy.

Gravel crunched under his feet as Angel walked across the driveway and back out to the sidewalk. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black cell phone. He hit speed dial and waited. The voice that answered was roughened by sleep.

"Hey, Spike, it's me," he said. "I am going to need a little help with something here in Rome."


End file.
